Wayne Tower.
"Aaaah!!!"
The man's screams rang through the entire building.
The chair crashed through the atrium railing, flipped over, and slammed onto the marble floor below.
Its back snapped off, sending fragments skidding far away. A vine hooked the terrified man inside by the ankle, leaving him dangling in midair.
His mouth hung open as he gasped for breath, snot and tears streaming down his face. His screams had already turned hoarse, and his hands flailed wildly like a pig awaiting slaughter for the New Year.
Pamela rested a hand on the railing and glanced down.
"Sir, can you reach Bruce Wayne now?"
The department manager beside her-the monkey being warned by this killing of a chicken-hurriedly pressed his phone back to his ear. His other hand shook so badly he couldn't even hit the screen properly.
"Ma'am... his office is transferring the call. He really isn't here today. Please wait a little longer..."
He had no time to wonder whether she was another flower his domineering CEO had carelessly plucked. Gossip could wait. He was seriously going to die.
He'd studied his heart out, shouldered student loans, and fought through hurdle after hurdle to finally become a high-level wage slave at Great Enterprise Group! His life was pretty good. He didn't want to die yet. He hadn't even paid off his mortgage! He'd only fucking put down the deposit yesterday!
"All right."
Pamela raised her hand, lifting the man below a little higher. He shouted in relief, thinking he could finally get back up, and desperately reached for the railing. But the vine stopped.
He was so close. The hope of survival was right before his eyes, but he simply couldn't reach it.
"Tell Bruce Wayne to shut down the factories along the river. Remove the machines clearing